


MAD HATTER

by Jackieshalom02



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Relationships, Banshees, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Lydia Martin, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jackson Whittemore is Part of the Pack, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Mutual Pining, Old Friends, Original Character-centric, Protective Jackson Whittemore, Protective Lydia Martin, Reapers, Romantic Friendship, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Self-Destruction, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackieshalom02/pseuds/Jackieshalom02
Summary: "You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Teen Wolf)Lydia Martin x Fem!ocSeason 1-6Slow burn.
Relationships: Jackson Whittemore/Original Female Character(s), Lydia Martin/Original Female Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	1. CHAPTER ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Harley Davidson belonged in a nut-house. Well, most people actually believed she belonged in a prison cell, or a rehab facility but that's besides the point. Harley had been five when she first started talking to people that weren't really there, her father had injuldged her, nodding along at the stories she told about her 'friends', somewhat reluctantly but, who was he to crush a childs imagination? 
> 
> It wasn't until she started talking to a Harry Davidson, who according to the young girl, had a rope wrapped tight around his neck, with his skin a botchy purple and eyes a bulging white, did her father begin to freak out. After all, how was young Harley to know she was speaking to her definitely long-since dead grandfather, who had killed himself before she'd been born.
> 
> Eventually, her father couldn't handle it at had a psychotic break when she was nine, wheeled off to the nut-house, never to be seen again while Harley was put into care. It had been a valuable lesson to the girl, who now pretended she couldn't see the bloated bodies of people before her. Instead, she focused on her new family in Beacon Hills, her new school, her new friends all the while slowly begining to drink herself into an early grave, as the screaming corpses began to get violent at her ignorance.
> 
> Really, you should never play with dead things

Harley Davidson, was someone you avoided in the halls, she was someone you avoided everywhere really. Not because she smelled bad or anything, well, she didn't smell great per-say but that was more to do with the fact she'd probably had been smoking a joint in the school bathroom, fingers clenched loosely around her 'water bottle' her eyes half-lidded and dazed, makeup smudged and beanie hanging low over her head.

The reason, she was avoided like the plague was due to two reasons. Number one being the fact the girl was an overdose waiting to happen, at least that's what parents whispered to each other, gossiping over shopping aisles when they caught sight of the young girl, leaning against a wall looking suave and collected, with her phone in one had and a cigarette in the other. Installing into their children's head that Harley was someone they couldn't hang out with, a horrible influence who's life was only going to go two ways, dead in a ditch or in jail. 

The second reason, was actually Harley herself. She didn't exactly look like the most welcoming person alive, all dark eyes with a darker mind and a grin sharper than a knife, looking more threat than greeting. There was only one person brave enough to even go near the girl, and that's because he knew her like the back of his hand, they were both tragic messes hidden behind false security after all. 

Which bring us to now, where Harley Davidson is sitting on her designated seat in the cafeteria, her name having been carved into it with her key long ago, a warning to everyone to stay away from her, and her table. Scrolling on her phone with one hand, and fiddling with the peas on her tray angrily with the other, trying to scoop the stubborn bastards onto her fork. 

The fork slipped out of her shaking fingers, clattering against the table, her dark eyes rolled as she reached under the table and brought out her 'water bottle'. Shooting a sharp glare over to a younger looking boy, who had quickly looked at the sudden movement before gulping and looking away once more, going deathly still in his chair. 

Huh, Jackass's nickname of Medusa made alot of sense, now that she thought about it. 

She brought the sloshing liquid up to red-painted lips, holding in the initial wince when the strong taste of vodka invaded her nostrils. The taste she could handle, she'd been drinking this stuff since she was thirteen but it was the smell that always got her, it reminded her of goddamn gasoline. 

Pulling it back, she quickly twisted the top back on before placing it to the side, too lazy to put it back into her bag, even though it was literally pressed against her leg, and knowing if she did get caught with it, her adoptive father would just pay the school to keep quiet about it, again.

Harley rubbed her eyes, withholding a yawn as she leaned her upper body more firmly against the table, wanting nothing more to just rest her head against it and sleep. Actually, she came to think about it, there was no reason for her to not do that. 

Someone suddenly slammed their bag down onto the table, body quickly following to sit on the seat opposite, doing so as loudly as they possibly could, drawing attention over to them from their classmates before they all quickly averted their eyes fearfully. Harley Davidson may of been bad, but Jackson whittenore was worse. 

She groaned, bottom lip jutting out to show her displeasure as she glared up at the smirking face of her confusing friend Jackson, who took great pleasure in knowing he was adding on to her headace, reminding the girl he was, indeed, a little asshole.

"What do you want, Jackass?" 

He let out a snort, blue eyes shining with mirth as he took in the sorry state his friend was in, slowly folding his arms over the table and taking a quick glance around them, making sure no one was listening in, before leaning closer to her angry figure. "My parents are out tonight for date night, figured you could come round-" 

"So we can drink and smoke our sorrows away?" She finished, a half smile forming on her pretty face, anger now long forgotten as he shot her a wink, lips lifting up into a suave grin. 

The two made a strange pair, they both knew they did, however no one was ever brave enough to make a comment about the weird friendship, with Jackson Whittemore being the most popular boy in the school, and practically everyone being afraid of Harley, whether it be the fact her glare could, very literally, freeze you in place or the fact she was as mentioned before, an overdose waiting to happen.

Jackson leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk, arms now crossing over his chest, his muscles bulging slightly due to the tight shirt he intentionally wore, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask as he quirked a brow at his friend. "So, you in?" 

"Obviously." 

She rolled her eyes, anything that involved ignoring her responsibilities was her cup of tea, she reached over lazily, handing over her bottle to the boy who took a quick sniff and pulled a face, taking a took a shot before handing it back to her, wiping his mouth and shaking his head, face twisted in disgust. 

"How you don't get caught with that, I'll never know." 

She slipped the bottle back into her bag finally, hearing it jostle against the other two she'd stored away in there and grinned toothily at him as he rolled his eyes in responce, lips lifting up into a fond grin at the weirdo sitting across from him. 

Harley paused, feeling as though something was watching her and glanced over his shoulder and accidentally made eye contact with the stunning stawberry-blonde, her ex-bestfriend and Jackson's current girlfiend, who, indeed, was watching the two interact with a scowl. 

However, when their eyes clashed, her expression changed, smoothing out into cold indifference, before flipping her long hair over her shoulder dramatically, shutting out the connection with a brutal flare, as she turned and continued to talk to the new girl, Allison Argent, who had only been in the school for a few weeks before falling prey to the Apex predator, named Lydia Martin.

Harley frowned, her eyes clouding over, thinking back to times when life was easier, when she was angry at the world, feeling like it had took everything from her and her short Strawberry-blonde friend, was the only thing that numbed the pain of existing. Now there was just the drink and the drugs and the occasional company of Jackass whittebitch. 

"Trouble in paradise?" She asked finally, shaking herself out from memory lane, to which he rolled his eyes once more, reaching for his bag and swinging it over his broard shoulder before replying to the girl in front of him.

"We're not having this conversation sober." 

"I'm not sober." She said with a shrug and easy-going grin, that somehow would of looked awkward on anyone but her as she showed him her hands which were now still. It was Jackson after all, who had pointed out while she was drunk, she was still, barely ever clumsy or glitchy. However while she was sober, her hands shook with such a force, you'd of thought there was an earthquake. 

Jackson, at first had thought it was hilarious, just another strange trick that came from the weirdo that he had weirdly become fond off, but he had found it less funny when he realised her hands never shook anymore, they were always still, and wrapped around her bottle. 

"You're never sober." Was his final contribution to the conversation, before tapping her shoulder softly in goodbye and leaving her to her own devices, not feeling the need to stay longer as he knew he'd see her later, and he thinking he'd finally be able to talk about what he saw at the video store. For all her flaws, Harley was a good listener, and she was the easiest person to talk to about things that went bump in the night. 

Harley huffed slightly at his fading form, before picking up her fork with a shrug and scooping some mushy pea's in her mouth, finally getting the bastards when they least expected it, element of surprise and what-not, fighting the urge to gag at the disgusting taste, her eyes lazily passing over the other students sitting down for lunch with their friends. 

She froze, looking more deer-in-headlights than teenage girl that darkness clung to like a blanket. Her cloudy eyes flickering as she caught sight of a woman, probably only a few years older than her staring up at her from her place on the floor. Which really, would of been strange in it's own right, however the reason Harley found herself freezing, was due the the girl missing the bottom half of her body and covered in blood. Laura Hale, a new ghost haunting her it seemed. 

With that thought in mind, and her hands begining to shake anxiously, she reached back into her bag and pulled out one of the bottles, no longer caring if anyone noticed. She took one last look at the ghastly corpse, before bringing the bottle to her lips and started to chug and chug and chug. She only stopped once she felt as though she could no longer breathe, the harsh alcohol numbing her throat but burning her nostrils.

When she finally opened her dark eyes, Laura Hale was gone, as was the blood and guts trailing behind her. Harley was alone, and drunk, as per usual.   
_______________________________________

The rest of Harley's classes went by quite quickly, as she didn't exactly have friends to distract her, she went through her work with relative ease, though the two bottles of Vodka and joint she had smoked after she had lunch might have something to do with it, there was no doubt in her mind whatever she wrote on her papers was total bullshit. 

The only class that dragged by in the slightest was her last class, chemistry, which was partly because of Mr. Harris. She honestly couldn't stand the man, and had it not been for the laws of this land she would of gladly drowned the rat-bastard, though the thought of him haunting her made her want to shot raw bleach. He once said his passion was chemistry, but Harley suspected it was making their lives misery.

The other reason, that the lesson had dragged oh-so slowly was due to the fact Lydia Martin, as she mentioned before, her ex-bestfriend and new queen-bee, kept staring at her into the side of her head with the glare of a thousand suns, which was making Harley feel very flustered indeed.

When the bell finally went off, Scott and Biles? No Stiles, Harley was sure it was definitely Stiles, ran out of the classroom like their life depended on it, which was actually becoming their usual form of exiting the class, though she didn't have much room to judge, she hallucinated weirder things. However, this time, Harley had wanted to join them. 

Trying to pack up her things as quickly as possible to escape, she wasn't overly suprised to find she was too slow, as the sight of Lydia standing in front of her desk came into focus finally, brows furrowed, her books hanging lazily from her arm as she waved off Allison, who was standing hesitantly near the door. 

"To what do I owe the Pleasure?" 

Harley asked sarcastically, not really remembering when the two last talked, and even if she did she could guarantee it hadn't been a good conversation. The girl in front of her frowned at her tone, before an overly fake smile formed on her plump, pink-stained lips. 

"Jackson told me, to tell you that instead of the plans you made you're coming with us to the new Mexican place tonight. Jackson and I, Allison and Scott and you." 

She said so cheerfully, it could almost be mistaken as real, the same smile stretching over her face, crinking the corners of her eyes softly, however, it was the way her right eye twitched micro-agressively, that told Harley that the stawberry-blonde had actually no say in those plans. 

She knew why she'd been invited, and Lydia did too, after all the girl was too smart for her own good for her to not understand, and as harsh as it seems, it was because Jackson didn't want to be alone with her, or the other couple joining them. But what was really annoying the girl in front of her, causing that eye to twitch, was the fact that Jackson wanted to be alone with Harley, but not anyone else. Not even his own girlfriend. 

"I have plans." 

Harley tried, shrugging her shoulders and pulling her third bottle of the day out of her bag, going to take a sip only to have the shorter girl wrap her hand around her wrist, so tight that the skin went taunt around her knuckles, stopping the dark eyed girl in her tracks. 

"No you don't. And even if you did, you're going to cancel them and join us, capeesh?"

Harley narrowed her eyes, thick brows furrowed, taking a threatening step forward as she glanced darkly down at the hand wrapped around her wrist and back up, trying to intimidate the girl into letting go, but Lydia didn't move, only raised her eyebrow boredly. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't just Jackson who didn't want to be alone with the group of unlikely teens. 

"Sure, since you asked so nicely." 

Lydia grinned brightly, showing that her smile was just as fake as before, as she straightened her posture and flipping her hair over her shoulders dramatically. "Great, we'll pick you up at eight." She chirped, finally letting go of dark-eyed girls wrist and strutting away with a spring in her step. 

Harley rolled her eyes, and took a quick sip of her drink, her face twisting into a scowl before she jumped in shock and dropped it out of her fumbling hands, only just managing to catch it before it hit the ground. Lydia had swung her head back through the door so suddenly, to look at the taller girl with a quirked brow. 

"And try not to be high...or drunk, people are starting to gossip."


	2. CHAPTER TWO

At half eight, just as Harley assumed they weren't coming, which was a blessing really, because she hadn't bothered to get changed, or even shower and instead had settled down to have a glass of cheap wine, enjoying the silence that was quite rare in the busy household, a loud beep had suddenly came from outside of her gate. Startling the anxious girl so much, she dropped her drink and it smashed across the hardwood floor, staining it red. 

She swore angrily, face twisting into a scowl as she dropped to her knees, begining to scoop up the shattered pieces of glass, lest one of her adoptive parents step on them, ignoring the feeling of the tiny pieces cut into her skin of her palm, before she stood up and put them in the bin, grabbing a towl from the kitchen counter and throwing it over the stain, to absorb it or hide it she didn't know. All the while Jackson honked his horn, in an effort to make her hurry up and to be an annoying asshole. 

Rolling her dark eyes, she quickly tugged on an oversized jumper that had been hanging over her over-priced leather couch, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans and running out, fighting the urge to throw something at Jackson's stupid head as he smirked at her up at her from inside the car, eyes shining in amusement at her flushed face.

"Hope you didn't think we'd forgot about you."

Harley narrowed her eyes, he knew fine well that she had hoped they did, and after a few minutes of awkward fumbling and accidental groping, swearing all the while, a great way to make a first impression of the dark-haired girl she'd be sharing the back seat with, she eventually managed to sit in the back of the stupid car. Allison gave the girl a sheepish smile, slightly cautious but feeling more amused and at ease because of the girls colourful language, that had mainly been directed at Jackass as they took off, she apologised softly.

"They would've been here on time, but they came to pick me up as Scott couldn't, we're just making a quick stop at the school then we'll head out, if thats alright with you?"

Harley couldn't bring herself to be mean or snappy to the sweet girl, though she had no such quarms doing it to the two in front, who were wisely keeping their mouth shut, and instead grinned at her. "Its fine, while we're there I can fill Mr. Harris's draws with some soggy toilet paper and draw a dick on the whiteboard." 

The two shared a laugh, bonding over their hatred over the teacher, before Jackson began to speed up as the school came into view, the only vehicle inside being a rusty looking jeep, which looked strangely familar. They had parked up close to it, and Allison was the first to weasel her way out of the car, apologising after she'd shoved her but in Harley's face, looking around, no doubt trying to find Scott, while Harley was quick to follow, already needing to stretch her legs from being stuck in the cramped car. 

Suddenly, said legs came out from underneath her, as Jackson opened his door and it rammed into the back of her knees purposely. She lay on the floor for a few seconds, tweeting birds practically dancing around her head as she gained her bearings, glaring up at Jackson's smirking face, who offered his hand only for her to slap it away, before she sat herself up, watching as he walked over to Allison and towards the schools open door, talking to each other quietly. 

"Are you going to get up? Or are you going to keep embrassing yourself?"

Harley turned her head to the side, catching Lydia's eye as she leaned against the hood of the car and glared at down her. Well, Harley had planned to, but now, strangely enough, she didn't feel like it, instead opting to shrug her shoulders with a smug grin, feeling the short strands of her curly hair brushing over her jaw as she did so.

"I'd have to have self-esteem to feel any sort of embrassment." 

Lydia rolled her eyes, before straightening up from the car and walking over to the prone girl, who watched her stomp over with darkening eyes before she was being yanked up, almost toppling over as Lydia started straightening out the taller girls jumper absentmindedly with a frown. "Well you're embrassing me."

Harley grabbed at her pale hands, the actions from the red-head feeling too familiar, reminding the girl of when they were friends, and she would constantly get dirty and sometimes bloody, from starting fights she could never finish and Lydia would always be there to clean her up, with a scowl and a repriminding tone. 

She shrugged her off and released her hands, taking a small step back, shaking her head as she did so. Lydia, seemingly realising what she was doing, took a step back too with another dramtic flip of her hair before scowling over to the two talking at the door. 

"I don't like this." 

She mumbled, more to herself then to Harley, looking towards the school, then to the jeep, before looking back at her boyfriend and 'best-friend' talking with soft looks on both of their faces. Harley made a face, and unconciously copied the smaller girls stance. "Yeah, me neither." 

Jackson eventually walked back over to the two, explaining that Allison had gone in to look for Scott and Stiles and would be back soon, before climbing into the car with a face like thunder, eyebrows furrowed and eyes so dark they looked black, Lydia following after a quick glance at the girl beside her. 

Harley didn't see the point, and instead allowed her eyes to flicker from place to place, feeling a shiver go down her spine, knowing something wasn't right, that something had happened. Her hand reached for the flask in her boots before stopping, whatever had happened, was still going on, and she was going to have to be somewhat sober to figure it out, the best way to describe what she was feeling, was someone constantly walking over your grave, and Harkey had been dealing with weird supernatural things enough in her life to know that was a bad sign.

She stood taller suddenly, eyes squinting as she stared at the jeep and tilted her head, something didn't look right, she leaned her head a little closer and nodded to herself, something definitely didn't look right about it, so she, without turning around, tapped the top of the car, to tell the two she was moving before walking over to it cautiously. 

She heard the car door open behind her and quick footsteps, Jackson come to the side of her and together, they stared at the beat-up car, his arm unconciously coming out to push the girl behind him, as the other traced the claw marks. The two exchanged fearful glances before jumping at Lydia's voice behind them.

"Look at that." She snapped, staring at the two boredly. "It is indeed, a piece of crap. Can we get Allison and leave now?"

Harley looked over to the school and frowned, squinting her eyes, at the shadow that passed over the window, perhaps a trick of the light but, personally, she didn't want to risk it. The same feeling came creeping, like she was involved in something bigger then herself. "Y'know, I'd rather we just left."

But the two either didn't hear her, or, the more likely option, didn't care. She pulled a face, before groaning and walking after them, if they died she's pretty sure it could be traced back to her, and the last thing she wanted was them haunting her as well.   
_______________________________________

The trio crept through the school, Harley doing her best to be silent, and Jackson and Lydia, seemingly doing their best to be very, very loud. She rolled her eyes, feeling as though it they had rolled into the back of her skull at this point before she reached over and pinched Jackson's arm. He made a hissing noise, like an angry cat, and span around to glare at the girl.

"Be quiet." 

She snapped darkly, eyes still flickering to every dark corner, as if waiting for something big and monstrous to pop out, the feeling of foreboarding still hitting her from all sides, and the stench of death following soon after, putting her on edge. 

"Or what? You're going to pinch me again?"

Lydia, seemingly tired of the arguing, which Harley found very ironic, pushed through the two, calling over her shoulder that she needed to use the bathroon, for the third time since they came into the school, it was obvious now the girl had the bladder of a bloody child, Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

"Do you have a problem with my performing a basic biological function?"

"You know, I'm starting to have a problem with all of your functions." Jackson snapped cruely, and Harley fought of the urge to hit him in Lydia's defence, knowing it wasn't her place to do so anymore, the second the red-head had left to go into the bathroom, Jackson turned to her with a scowl.

"Now, what the hell is wrong with you?" 

Harley's jaw tensed, a muscle in it twitching, before she placed her back against the wall, her deep-set eyes continuing to stare ahead, alert and waiting for something she didn't understand. "I can't shake the feeling that Something's not right." she grumbled finally, sugar-coating it, not wanting to tell the boy that she could practically taste the death in the air.

Jackson rolled his eyes once more, and knocked his shoulder against hers, somewhat softly as he leaned back to join her. "Nothings going to happen to you, idiot."

"I know that! and I know its probably just in my head, I'm just freaked okay? Not all of us can be macho men."

She snapped, rubbing her hands down her arms and back up again quickly, under the disguise of getting warm, while instead focusing on the sting of pain from the burning sensation, to distract her from her paranoia and anxiety, something was very wrong here. 

"I meant I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Idiot."

She turned her head sharply, eyes wide and mouth closely resembling a fish out of water as she stared at him, but he refused to look back at her, his face holding his usual aloof expression as if he hadn't just openly sore to protect her. Dork, she thought with a secretly fond smile. 

"Yeah, I won't let anything happen to you either. Jackass."

The two refused to look at each, both not the best at showing, or really recieving affection, and instead looked ahead, into the darkness in front of them, with small smiles on their features and a warm thrum in their cold hearts. 

The door to the bathroom opened suddenly, causing the two to spring up from where they were leaning and Lydia strutted out, her eyes glued to her phone as she informed the two that Allison, was in fact alive, and had texted them to meet her in the lobby, and with that they continued on. Jackson's shoulder bumping into Harley's who pinched him lightly in responce.   
_______________________________________

Hearing panicked voices from inside, Lydia and Harley exchanged glances, before Jackson pushed the doors open with a bang, obviously not caring about the shock that would cause the others inside, and the three strode in to where Scott, Stiles and Allison were talking in hushed tones. 

"Finally." Lydia said, looking to each teenager with a frown, "Can we go now?"

Harley had frozen suddenly from the back, face paling rapidly as she stared over their shoulders at something they wouldn't be able to see, the only one to notice was Stiles, who asked what was wrong, but she didn't hear him. No, all she could hear was the gargling of choked gasps from the man behind him, dressed in a janitors outfit and covered in blood, only one word, leaving his red lips before disappered. "Run." 

"We have to go."

She whispered, voice breaking, her hands winding into Jacksons jacket to pull his attention to her, though her eyes hadn't moved, awaiting the ghosts return. He turned, face dropping as he noticed her shaking hands and teary eyes, cupping her face in his palm almost softly as Lydia placed her hand on her arm, the two asking her questions that she couldn't hear.

They all had to run. Why weren't they running. 

The floor above them creaked suddenly, as something above them prowled, causing Scott to look up sharply, his hand finding Allison's as they clung to each other, ignoring the others sweaty palms. 

"Run." he suddenly yelled, pulling her along as Stiles ran ahead. Harley quickly pushed Jackson and Lydia in front of her, placing her at the back of the group, in her mind, a human shield and running, hearing the ceiling give out, and whatever was on it fall out and chase after them.

She quickly pushed the two up the stairs, wanting them as far away from the thing as she could get them, catching Lydia as she slipped and shoving her up, linking fingers with the girl when Lydia grabbed her hand in the panic. 

Harley looked behind her, knowing it was basic horror 101 to not do that, and felt her breath catch in her throat, whatever was chasing them, was not definitely not human, and was going to be charged with her therapy bill once this was over. 

"Don't look back!" 

Jackson yelled over his shoulder, taking her avalible hand in his and tugging her along in front of him with Lydia in tow, not liking the thought of her at the back of them, where who was chasing them could reach so easily. The group finally burst through the cafeteria doors, Scott, Allison and Jackson quickly slamming the door shut and began barrcading themselves in while Stiles stared ahead of them wide eyed and shaking, each shouting questions while Stiles tried to bring their attention over to him, but to no avail.

Lydia was gasping for breath, her shaking, pale hand clenched tightly around Harleys, who had unconciously shoved the red-head behind her protectively, Lydia's other hand, had wound itself in the taller girls jumper, and rested her forehead on her tense back, wondering if it was Harleys heart beat, or her own she could feel strumming in her ears. 

Harley stared ahead, her eyes unseeing as everyone struggled for a moment of sanity. This, this exact reason is why she didn't leave her house. Good god, She really needed a drink right now.

"Hello!" 

Stiles suddenly yelled, causing everyone to jump and turn to him, Harley forming a fist with one hand, and holding her other arm out in front of her protectively, taking up more space to the point Lydia could no longer be seen behind her, so she was the bigger target. 

"Okay. Nice work." 

Jackson walked over to the girls, not listening to a word, his eyes wide and heart in his throat, his hand slowly wrapped around Harley's wrist, knowing that the girl was awkward when it came to affection but knowing she needed to be grounded as much as he did, the two girls unconsiously curled around him, fear in all their features as Scott and Allison stood next to them. 

"Really beautiful job everyone. Now, what should we do about the 20ft wall of windows?" 

Stiles snapped, presenting the windows dramatically and staring at the group like they were stupid, which they all were feeling at the moment. Harley muttered a curse under her breath, as the couple holding onto her tighted their grip, and huddled closer. 

"Could somebody please explain to me what's going on? Because I am freaking out here." Allison said, clutching Scott's hand. "I would really like to know why..." She trailed off looking at Scott almost desperately.

"Scott?" She whispered once again, as he flung himself away from her and threw himself omto the desk in an action Harley could only describe at theatrical, rubbing his upper lip in frustration before looking at Stiles in panic, not knowing what to do. Stiles looked over to the group and sighed inwardly, knowing what he had to say but someone had beat him to it. 

"Something killed the janitor." 

Harley mumbled softly, causing everyones attention to turn to her as she pulled away from the group, including Scott who was still going through an internal crisis. "How did you know that?" He whispered, but she only turned her head to look out the window, alert and ready for something she didn't even know how to fight.

"She's right. I don't know how but she's right. The janitor's dead." 

Stiles said, walking forward and giving Harley the side eye, but she didn't look at him, instead she reached down, into her boot and started chugging. Not looking away from the window in case it came for them, she'd be their only line of defence, she only hoped they had enough time to run as it killed her. 

"What are they talking about? Is this joke?" Allison asked though no one was laughing. She looked back to Scott, who still refused to look at them, his gaze had never wavered from Harley, not understanding how she knew. 

"Who killed him?" Jackson asked, looking to the two boys in front of him and then to Harley, fighting the urge to pull her away from the window and closer to him, where she was safer. Lydia began shaking her head furiously, hair swinging and staring at the floor so she didn't have to look at anyone as she broke down, remembering red eyes, and an inhuman form. 

"No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to be over, the mountain lion killed-"

"Don't you get it, there wasn't a mountain lion." Jackson interrupted her; frustration evident in his features before he turned to Harley, temper reaching boiling point. 

"For God's sake Harley, come away from the window!" he yelled, reaching over to tug her between himself and Lydia as she struggled and swore, his arm wrapping tight around her shoulders as Lydia slipped her hand into hers, seeking comfort from her old friend. 

"Who was it?" Allison asked again ignoring the three beside her. "What does he want? What's happening?" She stared across the room, her eyes shining. "Scott!" She shouted, praying he would finally answer.

"I don't know." He said finally, his body rocking back and fowards, like he wanted to turn to face them but couldn't. "I just- if we go out there he's gonna kill us."

"Us?" Lydia whimpered, hand gripping tighter onto Harleys, who untangled their hands, to wrap her arm around the small girls shoulders, as she curled into her chest, her dark eyes never leaving the window. "He's gonna kill us?"

"Who?" Allison pressed, turning to Stiles, the others following suit, minus Harley, who Stiles was grateful for, at least someone was taking the window thing seriously. "Who is it?"

Scott continued to rub his face, frustration radiating from his anxiety ridden form as he thought of a plan, a very stupid plan, but it was the only one he had. 

"Its Derek. Derek hale"

Liar, Harley thought, she wasn't stupid. The janitor she had seen was maimed, and the thing that had chased them to this room wasn't Derek Hale, and definetly wasn't human. The five of them continued to argue amongst themselves, before Scott finally turned to them all. "If we don't get out now, he's going to kill us to." He snapped, his face serious as he looked to each person.

For a moment they were all silent, because out of everything Scott had said, that part was true. They needed to do something, and they needed to to it fast. Before Harley spoke up.

"So what are we going to do, besides standing here like sitting ducks?"

"Call the cops." Jackson said, looking pointedly at Stiles, hating the fact the girls were terrified, and hating the fact he was too. 

"No" Stiles said flatly, face devoid of any emotion. He had already had this conversation with Scott, and he wasn't about to watch is father get murdered by the Alpha.

"What do you mean no?" Jackson asked, his face twisting in anger, and arm jerking out to genture to him, before shrugging it down and wrapping it around Harley once again.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I mean no, you wanna hear it in Spanish? No!" Stiles snapped, Jackson glowered at him, hands clenching into fists and took a step towards him, only to be pushed back by Harley. "Look, Derek killed three people okay? We don't know what he's armed with." The pale boy mumbled, running along with the lie, considering he had no other choice, running his hands over his buzzcut as he tried to think.

"Your dad is armed with an entire Sheriff's department!" Jackson said. "Call him!"

"I'm calling." Lydia snapped, tired of the arguing, untangling herself from Harley and striding away from them. Stiles stepped forwards to try and stop her, but Jackson was between them in a second, shoving him away roughly and glaring. 

But it wouldn't matter, because dispatch hung up on Lydia, who stared at her phone in mounting horror.

"The police hung up on you?" Allison clarified, as if she wasn't standing next to her, listening to the conversation. Jackson closed his eyes tightly behind her, jaw so tense he felt as though it would snap in two. 

He looked behind him, his upper lip curling at Harley standing too close to the window once more and pulled her beside him quickly, shooting her a dark look. She turned to him for a moment, eyes wide and face pale and his hard expression softned. "Just stay close to me, okay?"

"She said they got a tip warning them that there were going to be prank calls about a break in at the high school." Lydia told them. "She said if I called again they were going to trace it and have me arrested!"

"Then call again!" Allison pushed, knowing being arrested was better than being murdered by a pyscho killer. Stiles started to shake his head, almost disappointingly. "They won't trace the call, and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here." He told them, knowing the ins and outs of the police force, better than anyone here, and knowing a bluff when he heard one.

Harley took a shaky breath, eyes flickering for a moment as she saw a shadow pass the window, before it disappeared once more. Whatever the thing was, it knew she could see it but it didn't care, it was hunting them.

Allison put her face in her hands. "Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why is he killing anyone?" She asked, looking towards Scott as everyone else followed suit. "Why are you all looking at me?"

They started to argue amongst themselves once again, voices rising and tensions running high, which cause Harley to finally snap. "Enough!" 

Everyones attention turned to the girl, as she tore her gaze away from the window to glare at Allison. "You want your answers? Go outside and ask him." She snarled viciously, earlier kindness long since disappearing and leaving rage in its wake, before she stalked over to Scott and shoved a ring-clad finger into his chest.

"And you. I don't know why you're lying and fankly I don't care, but instead of arguing about who, when and why, we should be think about how the fuck we're getting out of her alive." 

Stiles came up beside her, nodding his head and pointing as if to say 'she has a point', before grabbing Scott's shoulder and leading him away to the corner, to talk in hushed voices so the others couldn't hear them.

"What is your problem?" Allison hissed, still stung from her previous comment, causing Harley to turn and huff out a laugh, disbelieving that the girl had an attitude. "Are you kidding? My problem is that we're just standing here arguing, instead of trying to think of a fucking plan."

"Is that what you were doing? Staring out the window looking for answers?" Allison mocked, arms crossing over her chest and refusing to admit she had a point.

"No, I was staring out the window looking for the monster trying to kill us, or have we forgot that it could easily smash through the glass and slaughter us all at any moment."

The three in front of her paled, realising she was right, the killer hadn't been trying to break down the door, meaning it was somewhere, lurking. 

"Okay!" Jackson cut in. "Assheads, new plan. Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?" Stiles looked away from Jackson and back to Scott. Not wanting to have the argument again and wondering why no one was listening to him, was he the bad guy for not wanting his dad killed?

"He's right." Scott finally snapped, his expression panicked as he stared at his friend pleadingly. "Tell him the truth if you have to, just call him." 

"I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive." Stiles said quietly.

Harley stepped forward, her eyes angry but face understanding, even though her mind raged for her to just knock him out and call the sheriff herself. "Stiles, I get it, you're worried about your dad. I'd be too, if I had one. But if you don't call him, we could all die."

He stared at her, as if debating it, before shaking his head and turning to the table Scott had flung himself on minutes before. Jackson scowled and strode forwards, having enough and snapped "Alright, give me the phone." 

However, he was interrupted, by Stiles twirling around with the grace of a ballerina, and slammed his fist into the taller boys nose. Feeling pain shoot up his arm but he didn't care, he had it coming. Harley caught the boy before he could drop to the floor, only to be pushed away by Allison as she checked over him, doe eyes wide. "Hey, Jackson, are you alright?" Giving Stiles a dark look as she tended to him.

Harley glanced at the window, no longer caring about the teen drama unfolding in front of her, coming to grips with the fact she was going to probably die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the world, before she jumped when she felt someone take her hand, she glanced down to see Lydia staring at the carnage in front of her, but not moving to help, seemingly numb.

Stiles yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed his father. However, got his voicemail, and Stiles thought he could have actually jumped for joy. But the moment died as the door rattled, he exchanged looks with Scott, panicked before snapping into the phone. "We're at the school, dad, we're at the school." 

Stiles hung up, watching the screws shake loose from the hinges, Jackson stood up finally, pushing past Allison to grab at Harley and Lydia who ran to meet him, and pushed he quickly them behind him, Lydia sobbing "oh gods" into his shoulder, while Harley clung onto his hand, short fingernails digging into his skin.

"The kitchen." Stiles said, unable to tear his eyes away from the door. "The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell."

"Which only goes up!" Scott shouted, arms wrapping around Allison as she shook in his grip. But Harley had already started shoving everyone back towards the door, determination in her eyes. 

"Up is better than here."

They couldn't argue with that, and quickly began to run out of the door, Harley once again at the back, shutting the door behind her and flinching when she head the doors to the caffiteria burst open. 

Well, this was really not how she planned her night to go.


	3. CHAPTER THREE

The small group had barricaded themselves in one of the labs. Well, Harley had shoved a chair under the handle and called it a day. God, at this point she was just wishing it would hurry up and kill them, it would be easier to die then to have to deal with the trauma and therapy this night was no doubt about to give her. Like she wasn't screwed up enough. 

She braced herself against one of the desks, stuck in the middle of Jackson and Lydia, who were panting for breath next to her, hearts racing and blood pounding, eyes flickering up and down to meet one another's every so often, as if to assure themselves the other was there. 

Low growls came from outside, deep and seemingly vibrating through the floor, or perhaps that was just Harley's shaking legs, the noise causing Lydia to whimper and clutch onto the arm closest to her, which happened to be Harley, who shoved a hand over her mouth to silence her as its shadow passed over the door.

Whatever was out there, knew they were here, and was definitely screwing with them. 

"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott whispered, his eyes flickering to each individual as he tried to come up with a plan. 

"Six, maybe, if someone squeezes on someone's lap." He replied, exchanging looks with arley. A sharp bite to her palm brought her attention over to the fact she still had her hand over the red-heads mouth, and she pulled it back with a hiss. "Six?" Allison snapped, hair swinging over her shoulder. "Harley and I barely fit in the back!" 

"It doesn't matter. There's no getting out without drawing attention." Stiles whispered softly, jaw tense as he started to realise just how bad the situation had got. Harley scowled and pointed over to the emergency exit, wondering why she'd apparantly been gifted with the ony braincells from the group, "Or we could just go out there?" 

Scott quickly ran over to the door, glancing at everyones hopeful expressions over his shoulder before pulling the handle but it only rattled. "Its locked." he whispered, Jackson's shoulders slumped and he hit the desk with a growl. Harley walked away from the group and looked over the door, dark eyes narrowed before a metathorical lightbulb came over her head. "The janitor would have the keys, right?"

Stiles laughed humourlessly, glaring over at the girl as if she was an idiot, ignoring Jackson's dark repriminding look, as if warning him not to be an asshole to her. Like that was going to happen. "Yeah, I think you mean his body has it."

"Not for long." She told him, taking a hair-tie from her shaking wrist, and began shoving her curly hair into a ponytail as everyone exchanged looks of confusion. 

"What the hell do you mean? is he going to come back to life and give it to us?" Stiles snapped as Harley looked over his shoulder, and made eye contact with the bloodied corpse behind him, who nodded his head towards her, though she wished he hadn't, as more blood splurted out from his shredded throat. 

"Something like that."

She reached into her boot, pulling out her flask and finishing the liquid inside it, laying it on the desk next to her with a wishful glance, wishing it was fuller. Before she squared her shoulders determinedly and brushed past the group, her mind set and eyes alight. "I'm getting the key."

Her plan was very quickly interrupted as a leather-clad arm wrapped around her waist tightly, muscles straining as she struggled and shoved her back away from the door, Jackson apparantly didn't like her plan.

"Absolutely not, are you insane?!" 

Lydia screamed at her, eyes wide in panic at just how close Harley had came to walking out of the door, Jackson began to shove her further back into the room, she quickly slapped at his hands and glared at them angrily, eyes narrowing and ignoring Stiles and Scott who were shouting to pull her back away from the door. 

"Its a fucking suicide mission!"

Jackson snarled, shoving her again, as if the futher away from the door she was, the less chance there was she'd go through it. 

"Better one of us dying then all of us." 

Allison gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as she stared at the girl, all of them freezing in their tracks at her statement. Harley winced, realising that her wording probably wasn't the best to go with if she wanted to get out and get the key. 

"She's right." Scott called out, Lydia spun around to glare at him. "If you like her plan so much why don't you go instead?" 

"It's the best plan we have." Scott told her, exchanging looks with Harley who nodded at him. "Someone has to get the key if wanna get out of here."

Jackson laughed, turning his back to Harley and rubbing his hand across his forehead, resisting the urge to slam his head against the wall, not believing this is how his night played out, choosing which one of the group was to go on a suicide mission. "I'll go." Scott said, believing himself to have a better chance, at surviving and at finding the body. Also wanting his friends to stay safe in the chemistry lab, ignoring Allison's dry sob. 

"You won't be able to find the body." Harley snapped, shaking her head and wishing she still had her flask as her hands shook and vision flickered. She could feel the sweat gathering at the back of her neck, and she couldn't telll whether it was withdrawls or fear. 

"And what? you can?" Lydia scoffed, wanting the taller girl to see sense, but she knew better than anyone that once Harley had an idea in her head, she wouldn't stop until she went through with it. 

"Trust me, I have a better shot than anyone." She told her before trying to walk past, but Lydia's hand desperately grabbing her jumper stopped her, she turned and stared into the red-heads watery eyes and her jaw tensed. "Lydia..."

"I'm going." Scott snapped, causing Harley to look over to him, narrowing her eyes before another idea popped up in her head. He knew what was really happening, that much was obvious, and if the two left together, she'd have a chance to get to the bottom of it. 

"We'll go together." she ignored everyone shouting their complaints, and instead stared at Scott, who frowned and searched her eyes, after all, she wasn't the only one who had questions. He nodded slowly, and Harley quickly hrugged herself out of Lydia's hold, knowing this solution was for the best. "You can't just go out there unarmed." Allsion told the two, wringing her hands together. 

Scott seized a pointer with a hand on the end, banishing it like a sword while Harley went to one of the drawers and pulled out an scapel. "There's gotta be something else." Stiles said, looking around the room, ignoring everyone else as he searched. 

"There is." Lydia said, eyeing the class cabinet behind them, letting a ghost of a smile cross her face as an idea formed, using her only form of protection. Her brain. 

"What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?" Stiles asked, confusion twisting his pal features as he stared at her. "No, like a firebomb." Lydia said, glancing at the faces of disbelief in the room, except Harley, who was looking proud in the corner, knowing someone would have their share of the braincells eventually. 

"In there is everything you'd need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail." She explained.

"Self-igniting-" Stiles began, just as foored as the rest of them. "Molotov cocktail." Lydia finished for him, growing more annoyed by the second and ignoring everyone staring at her, Jackson especially looked shocked.

"What?" Lydia defended herself. "I read it somewhere."

"We don't have a key for that either." Stiles mumbled, staring at the cabinet with a frown. Jackson snarled, patience wearing thin, due to everyones idiocy and the fact they were practically throwing Harley to the wolves, and slammed his fist through the glass. They all watched in silence as Lydia made the cocktail, the only sound in the room was her occasional whisper of instructions to Jackson, who only looked up from his task to glare at Harley, who did her best to ignore him. Each of them electing to ignore the tremor in Lydia's hands.

Once they were done Lydia hestitated for a moment, before she handed the beaker over to Harley, allowing her fingers to linger over hers, wondering morbidly if this was the last time she'd ever see the girl. "No." Allison said. "No, this is insane you can't do this, you cannot go out there."

Her eyes were only on Scott, Harley got the impression the girl was hoping he'd back out and she'd be the only one to go, not that she could blame her, something told her Jackson was having the same thought process about her. "We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages." Scott rebutted.

"You could die." She snapped, clutching the wood of the bench with shaking hands. "Don't you get that? He's killed three people."

"She's got a point." Jackson said, glaring over to Harley who rolled her eyes in responce. 

"Somebody has to do something."

Allison was unconvinced, walking over the bench and placing herself in front of the door, as she stared at him, her dark eyes pleading.

"Scott just stop." She put her hands on his chest. They were shaking. "Do you remember when you told me that you knew when I was lying? That I had a tell?" Her voice cracked and there were tears on her cheeks. "So do you. You're a horrible liar, and you've been lying all night, just please, please don't go. Please don't leave us."

Harley frowned, glancing over to the couple by the desk to see Lydia's eyes on her, the same panic in them, her hand reaching over the table and placing itself on top of Harleys. 'Be careful, please.' she mouthed, forgetting the fact the two hadn't been friends for years.

Scott looked over his shoulder, catching her eye before turning back to Allison. "Lock the door behind us." 

Harley walked over to the door, as Allison pulled the boy into a kiss, pouring her every emotion into it, before letting him go after her. With one last glance to the group behind them, they left. 

"We should of just let Scott go." Jackson mumbled, only to have Allsion and Stiles glare over to him.  
_______________________________________

"So, are you going to explain what thatthing really is and what it has to do with you?" 

Scott jumped, glaring over to her as he fumbled with the flask she had transferred over to him. "Depends. Are you going to explain how you knew the janitor was dead and how you seem to know where his body is?" 

Harley hummed, low in her throat, not taking her eyes off the dark corridor in front of her, the dead, limping body of the janitor walking ahead of them, blood following behind him. Sometimes, being the only one who could see ghosts was helpful, as she was sure Scott would be screaming in horror by now and giving that thing what it wanted. Them. 

"Look Scott, you and I both know that whatever that thing is, its definetly not Derek Hale, and its definitely not human, so tell me whats happening, and then I'll talk."

He sighed, shoulders dropping as he realised he was caught between a rock and a hard place, hesistating for ony a moment before letting the cat out of the bag; well, a more accurate term would be wolf out of the bag. She listened to him silently, not interrupting or asking questions or even looking at him like he was insane, just listening almost calmly, though Scott could hear the hammering of her heart, and the stench of fear. Once he finshed, the two stayed in silence for a few minutes, processing what happened, before Harley figured she might as well tell him the truth too.

"I see dead people."

Scott growled angrily, stopping as they reached the stairs to glare at the girl in front of him. "This isn't a joke, I'm telling the truth." 

"So am I." she replied, staring up at him with her back literally, pressed up against a wall as he towered over her. He paused, realising what he had done and quickly stepping away, not wanting to seem the monster he feared he was, he listened to her heart beat, not skipping a beat, or accelerating.

"The reason I know where the Janitor's body is, is because he's literally in front of us, leading us to it. He's got a blue shirt on, though its ripped to hell, and dark balding hair."

Scott took another step back, his eyes widening as he remembered the janitors appreance, looking down the stairs quickly, as if expecting to see the corpse staring up at him like something out of the walking dead. 

"What? You don't think it's weird how I'm always drunk? Always high? I do all that because its the only way to make the ghosts disappear." She told him softly, eyes watering as they clouded over, looking to the floor quickly to hide it. Scott felt his heart twist in his chest, it was obvious she was hurting, and if they managed to get out of here alive, he was going to help her, like they'd said, someone had to do something. 

With that in mind, he took her hand, slowly and cautiously, as if calming a stray dog he'd found on the road and smiled shakily. "We'll figure it out, but first, lets find a way out of here."   
_______________________________________

The janitor finally lead them to the bleachers, before disappearing away from her sight. She gulped, eyes flickering around them, just waiting for the sense of dread that came when the mons- no, the Alpha appeared. Scott intertwined their fingers, feeling her anxiety and trying to help as best he could, turning her attention over to him as he smiled and held their hands up, squeezing softly. "Together?" 

"Together."

They walked forward, under the bleaches, senses on high alert and hairs at the back of their necks stood up, on edge. Scott wrinkled his nose at the scent of blood, risking a glance at Harley who smiled shakily. 

She stopped, quite suddenly and Scott was jerked to a stop beside her, he turned, a question on his lips only to feel something drop on his cheek. He closed his eyes tightly, before slowly looking up and gagging at the sight. 

They had found the janitor.

Harley glanced around quickly, eyes flickering before she caught the glare of the keys hanging from his pocket, She tugged on Scott's arm and pointed it out. He untangled their hands, looking around for something to stand on, before looking over to Harley. "How good are you with heights?"

"I'm not getting on your fucking shoulders."

A few moments later, Harley was sat on his broad shoulders, cursing agressively under her breath as he huffed under her. "Would you stop complaining and grab the keys."

She mimicked him under her breath, yelping as he pinched her inner thigh and pulled his hair in retaliation, realising they were acting like children but was to scared to care, before reaching up and trying to grab the keys, her fingers inches away. Before their heads snapped to the side, as the bleaches began to close in on themselves.

"Harley! Grab the keys!" 

He screamed, not tearing his eyes away from their impending doom. "I'm trying." she yelled back, stretching forward slightly, her fingers brushing against them and yanking them from his belt. "I've got them. Go! Go! Go!"

He dropped her, picking up the flask and the keys with one hand, grabbing her own with the other, tugging her along and running as fast as their legs could carry them, when they finally got to the end, Scott pushed the girl in front of him, with such a force that she practically flew out of the exit before he tumbled after her. 

Once he got his bearings, he quickly turned to her, cupping her face in the palms of his sweaty hands tightly, eyes flickering around her face for any sign of injuries. "Harley, you okay?" But she shakily pointed at something over his shoulder, face pale and eyes wide.

He spun around, still in his crouched position and moved in front her protectivly as he stared down the beast in front of him, fingers tightening over the flask in his hand. The two stood up slowly, staring at the alpha as he crawled closer, looking every bit something from a nightmare. "Come on." Scott whispered, feeling Harley wrap her hand around the bottom of his jacket, body shaking. "Come get me."

As soon as he whispered the magic words, the alpha narrowed its blood red eyes and charged towards them, Scott pushed Harley back with one hand and with the other, hurled the flask at its face, waiting for it to blow but it didn't. 

"Fucking dickheads." Harley snarled, before pulling Scott with her, about to run, only for the Alpha to wrap its furry hand around his ankle and throw him backwards onto the floor, ignoring Harley completly as it ran foward and pressed him into the floor.

"Harley. Run"

He screamed, as the beast howled into the night, she looked frantically around for something, a weapon, anything before feeling something settle, heavy in her hand. She glanced down in confusion and gasped in shock.

Sitting in her hand, was a dark staff looking thing, with an glittening steel curved blade on the end, all around it were words written in a language she didn't understand, dark swirling runes and relics too. She gripped it tightly, stranger things had happened and a weapon was a weapon, a fire igniting in her dark eyes before she screamed and charged, swinging down the weapon into the shoulder of the beast who howled in pain. 

It twirled around and clawed at her, managing to catch her collar bone as she jerked back, falling onto the floor and yelping in pain before it ran off. She stared after it for a moment, glancing down only to see the weapon had disappeared before crawling over to Scott. 

"Scott? Scott? Are you okay?" She turned him around, just as he started to scream and jerk around, her eyes widened and she tried to pin him down but he shoved her off. "Go, you have to go."

He screamed, eyes flashing gold, causing her to gasp. "I can't control it!" Her hands shook, staring at his twitching body, concern in her dark eyes. "Go!" He roared, and she quickly stood, shooting him one last glance over her shoulder before running for the labs, ignoring the pain of her wounds.

She flew up the stairs, and found the door quickly, hearing the voices from inside and slammed her body onto it weakly. She heard someone scream, before another deeper voice, Jackson, yell "Wait. Its Harley"

He shoved whoever was by the door, and grabbed the chair from under it. As soon as the door gave way, so did Harley's balance, and she fell into Jackson's open arms, getting blood over his jacked as Lydia screamed. Stiles looked out the door, not being able to see Scott and slammed it shut behind her. Jackson held her in his arms, eyes panicked "What the hell do we do?" 

Allison knotted her hands in her hair, staring at the cut over the girls neck and stammered out a reply. "W-we have to stop the b-bleeding."

Lydia shook of her jacket, bunching it up in her hands before dropping to her knees next to Jackson and pressed it roughly against the scratch. "Harley, where's Scott?" Stiles yelled at the bleeding girl, ignoring Jacksons snarl and Lydia's deadly expression. 

"We got seperated." she lied, holding onto Lydia's shaking hands to steady them and shooting the girl a sheepish smile. "Don't suppose we have any vodka?" 

Suddenly there was a snap and a dark shadow that passed by the murky window, outside the door. "Scott!" Allison said, grabbing the handle and fighting to turn it. She pounded on the door. "Scott!" She shouted.

He'd locked them in. And only Harley knew why. 

"Stop!" Lydia shouted, straining her ears as she heard a sound, a wonderful sound that she was praying wasn't her imagination. "Stop!" Allison finally spun around, panic in her gaze as she snapped, "What?!"

"Do you hear that?" Lydia asked. They were silent, the only sound coming from the group was Harley grunting. But sure enough they heard it. Sirens. A lot of them. Heading their way.

They were saved.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you?"

**T** **he second the ambulance had arrived on the scene,** **Harley had** **been whisked off to hospital, her adoptive parents already there and threatening to** ** _sue_** **the school and the** ** _police_** **for what had happened to her during the night.** And Harley just watched them argue and fret and _cry_ with impassive eyes as her wounded arm was cleaned, bandaged and then placed in a _God-awful_ sling, wanting nothing more to go home to her bed, where she always kept her bottle of vodka safely hidden inside her pillowcase. 

The next few days were, well, for a lack of better word, _hell._ She couldn't so much as cough without Jan, her mother for all intents and purposes, leaping into action, coddling her and asking what she needed, what she wanted, why she was coughing ect ect. In all honesty, Harley was suprised the woman hadn't tried to wipe the teenagers ass herself, considering she seemed intent on doing everything and _anything_ just so Harley could not move a muscle. 

It didn't help things that she'd _almost_ been refused pain medication after a nurse had taken one look at her scarred arm and seen the track marks from her years of drug abuse and adamantly denied her anything and everything, her parents had to pay the nurse _not_ to say anything, and pay another doctor to subscribe her them. But, she could see why they were hesitant, these things coursing through her veins were **strong** **.**

It felt like everything in the world was slowed down, but she was speed up, it was incredible as well as terrifying and she wanted that high forever, she hadn't even seen anything...dead since starting them. 

But eventually the drugs wore off, her parents had to go back to their jobs and all Harkey could do was stare up at the ceiling and count the cracks numbly, not having the motivation to move, to shower, or to even turn her head and watch Star wars; A New Hope, that had been playing on loop for the last couple of days. She ignored the hunger pains in her stomach, the dryness of her skin, even her phone constantly flashing from phone calls and text messages didn't even make her blink. 

Depression really was a bitch.

However, the next morning she forced herself to get up and actually wash the tattered mess she called hair, concerned that if she went any longer without doing that, it'd start to become it's own organism. Her mother had thankfully helped her put her clothes on for school, frowning slightly at the dark materials and trying to ask a gentle, "are you sure you want to wear this? It's a lovely day outside?" But Harley wouldn't hear a word of it.

If she died of heatstroke, then that was on her.

And when she was dropped off outside of the school, she was woman enough to admit she got a certain kind satisfaction at the way the other teenagers would practically leap out of her way as she walked up the steps, a cruel smirk on her black-painted lips, yes, she really did enjoy being _that_ bitch.

Well, she was enjoying it, until a certain strawberry-blonde menace saddled up beside her, cardigan covered shoulder brushing against the taller girls forearm as she openly wrinkled her nose as the girls sling, glossy upper lip curling in disgust. Harley would never understand how she could still look so pretty with that kind of expression on her face.

"You couldn't of asked for one that wasn't such an eyesore? That thing is doing nothing for your complexion." Lydia observed, tilting her head to the side sassily as she gave the girl a once-over, lips pursing out in a pout, the ugly white sling was ruining the taller girls aesthetic, big time. And you couldn't even sign it!

"Ah, I'm so glad you noticed, I specifically asked for the ugliest sling they had, just to assault your eyes. And plus, 'my complexion', seriously? You're paler than me."

"I wear it better, there's a big difference between being pale, and looking like the grim reaper." Lydia said, leaning her shoulder against the wall outside of the school and grinning mockingly, taking in Harley's dark bags that rested under her eyes and her sharp cheekbones. Thank god the girl was pretty, the strawberry-blonde thought shallowy.

"That'd be the depression." Harley told her, rolling her eyes and hitching her bag higher up her uninjured shoulder, catching a freshman staring up at the two wide-eyed and barking at him with a vicious grin, snorting when the boy ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. She looked back down to see Lydia staring up at her, unimpressed, and already sick of her shenanigans. "You're hilarious."

"I do try."

"...Does it hurt?" Lydia asked after a few moments, turning her head to the side to check her painted nails hauntingly, as if to show the taller girl her uninterest about the answer. But, Harley knew better, the girl in front of her had been her best friends for years, and obviously wanted to talk to her. Plus, she was standing directly in front of her, blocking the entrance of the school. That was also a dead giveaway.

"Should do, but I'm too hopped up on pain meds to feel, seriously, punch me and I won't feel a thing." Harley offered with a smirk, turning her sling the face shorter girl who rolled her eyes, pushing it down and out of her face, and away from her gently. "Should a doctor be giving a drug addict more drugs?" She asked, tapping her finger against her chin in mock thought.

"Careful princess. And they should be when the drug addict's parents are loaded." The dark-eyed girl whispered conspicuously, before the two girls shared a smirk, amusement shining in their eyes. Both thinking the exact same thing. _I've missed this._

Suddenly, Lydia caught sight of something over the girls shoulder, _miraculously,_ and waved a hand to bring attention over to them, a smile curving her plump lips upward. "Hey! Allison!" She sang, while Harley's face dropped, going to move away thinking herself dismissed, only for the strawberry-blonde to latch onto her uninjured arm and drag her over to the sheepish looking girl.

"Hey Lydia. Hey Harley." She murmured, smiling awkwardly and tucking a dark curl behind her ear, remembering the last and well, once of the first conversations the two had. Harley blinked back in responce, and then let out a grunt when Lydia's elbow jolted into her side painfully, a strained smile still on the shorter girls face as she narrowed her eyes up at her. "Look, Allison, I'm uh-"

"No, it's ok. You were right, I should of been more focused on getting out of here, I was being stupid." Allison quickly assured, waving her hand through the air as if cutting through the tension, and this time Harley did _actually_ feel a swell of guilt as she sighed, stepping forward to place a reassuring hand on the girls arm. "No you weren't. You were scared, we all were. I shouldn't of snapped like that."

They shared a smile. "So, are you two good?" Lydia asked, sucking her lips and raising her brows innocently, looking between the two taller girls with her keen green eyes, awaiting their responses impatiently. "Yeah, sure." They both said, before sending each other amused grins at the accidental jinx they'd spoken.

"Excellent! Or else lunch would of been _really_ awkward. Lets go." Lydia said, linking her arm through theirs and pulling them along towards the school, with a barely noticeable spring in her step, for what, who knew. All the while Allison smiled fondly at the short strawberry-blonde while Harley frowned to herself questionly, _this was still happening? What the hell was going on?_

"Lunch?"

"Yes? Y'know, when people _eat?"_

"I know what lunch is, princess. I'm not stupid." Harley snapped, upper lip curling as they strolled into the school, eyeing up her fellow students with a vicious scowl as they all made a conscious effort to quickly move out of her way, clearing a path for the three girls as they strutted through the hallways. "Well colour me suprised."

"This is just _weird_ right? Like everybody's talking about what happened the other night, and nobody knows it was us." Allison whispered to the two girls, dark eyes glancing frantically all around, not hearing a word they were saying as they softly bickered amongst themselves, before they brought their attention over to her, remembering their third companion.

"Thank you for the Protection of Minors." Lydia smiled sarcastically up at Harley, who smirked rolling her eyes. Allison smiled once more, searching through the crowds for a familar face and then feeling a mixture if relief and disappointment when she couldn'tfind it, she risked a look down at the strawberry-blonde. "Lydia? Do you think I made the wrong decision?"

"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely."

"You know what I mean."

"Hello? Scott locked us in a classroom, left Harley for dead and then disappeared. He's lucky we're not pressing charges, or making him pay her hospital bills or our _therapy_ ones." Lydia drawled, huffing a breath out through her nose, not seeing Harley's tense jaw as they walked to their respective classes. _This was going to be a long and_ _strange_ _day._  
_________________________________________________

And sure enough, it was, strange, that it, and long too. The classes had seemed to go on and on and _on_ as she stubbornly managed to avoid Scott McCall's eyes whenever they passed in the hallway, or sat near each other in class. However, her saving grave was supposed to be at lunch, where _no one_ ever bothered her, but when she'd walked into the cafeteria it was to the sight of Lydia, Allison, Jackson and Danny sitting at _her_ table, eating their lunch while the strawberry-blonde looked around through the students with narrowed eyes before going back to the conversation of the table.

Harley realised very quickly that the girl was looking for her, and with that thought in mind she quickly spun on her heel and strolled away to the bathroom. She would much rather smoke a joint in there anyway and that's where she stayed for the whole of lunch, and the period after, and the period after that until the bell rang.

Eventually, she opened the stall door, wafting spoke away from her face and staring at herself in the mirror in front of her, taking in her red-shot eyes with a scowl, reaching around to rummage through her bag for eyes drops, but giving up after a few minutes and instead just rubbing them, frustrated and most of all tired, she didn't know why she bothered. It wasn't exactly a secret that she did drugs. People would probably be more suprised if she didn't walk out of the bathroom looking the way she did.

So Harley grabbed her bag silently and strutted out, knowing that everyone would already be gone, walking down the hallway and opening the heavy doors to the outside, breathing in the cold air with a sigh, standing still for a few moments before her phone, safe inside her pocket, buzzed, alerting her of a text which she pulled out slowly, unlocking her phone and narrowing her blurry eyes at the screen.

_Unknown number;_   
_Don't think_ _I_ _don't know what you're doing. Good luck trying to escape tomorrow. Xoxo_   
_P.s. See if you can dye that stupid sling. It's_ **_such_ ** _an eyesore._

Harley snorted, realising very quickly who it was and knowing that Jackass had given the girl her number, quickly saving it as Lydia with an almost fond roll of her eyes and then slipping the phone back into her pocket. She looked out at the empty parking lot, skipping down the stairs and about to step on the road only to let out a shrill scream as a familar jeep drove in front of her, so close that it almost wiped her nose clean off of her face.

"Seriously? What is wrong with you?!" She snarled, taking a step back as Stiles rolled down the window, his whiskey-coloured eyes wide and frantic as he looked around, as if expecting someone to be listening in. "Look, I know we don't really know each other, but I need your help."

"Why the hell would I help you?"

"Because I think Scott might kill someone tonight, and from what he told me, that's not going to end well for you, ghost whisperer." Stiles said seriously, leaning his arm out the window and looking her up and down with narrowed eyes. Harley was seriously regretting not just letting the jeep run her over.

"Fuck." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, what fresh hell is this?"

**The car ride to Scott's was, in a word, one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences she'd ever** _ **experienced**_ **in her very short** **lifespan** **.** The only sound was their own breaths, the occasional tires squealing underneath them, and, every so often, Stiles would somehow hit a curb and curse loudly, before becoming quiet once more, filling the jeep with a strange tension as they both tried to desperately avoid looking at the other. 

Harley was seriously considering rolling the window down and simply _throwing_ herself out of the bastard thing. The ghosts can't haunt her if she's dead too. At least, she _hoped_ they couldn't, if they could, it just proved that the Gods above had a personal vendetta against her, for whatever reason. Probably the drugs. Or the premarital sex. Or the drinking. Or the minor crimes she'd committed out of boredom. Or the- you know what? This could go on a while, its probably best she _didn't_ go down that rabbit hole of her own self destructive tendencies again. 

Instead she just stared ahead of her, somewhat numbly, scowling and unblinking with one of her arms crossed over the other gently, not wanting to strain her injuries and watching with jealousy as a bug splattered across the windshield, only to be quickly wiped away. Good gods above, how she wished that was her. 

The dark-eyed girl, finally growing angsty with the silence, reached down and pulled her bag onto her lap and began to quickly rummage through it, sighing in relief when her fingers wrapped around the cold, well, more like room-temperature flask at the bottom of her bag, pulling it out with some difficulty due to her sling, and, without further ado began to chug it, wincing when the strong smell of vodka invaded her nostrils and burned the back of her throat unpleasantly. But hey, at least her hands were no longer shaking.

"Are you kidding me, dude? Not in my car." Stiles finally broke his silence with a whine, spotting what the girl was doing out of the corner of his eye, keeping one pale hand on the wheel while the other stretched across the space to yank her arm down, pulling the flask away from her puckered lips with a 'pop', ignoring the deadly look he got from the girl in return. 

"My dad's the sheriff, he can smell that stuff out like a hound."

"That sounds like a whole lot of 'not my problem'. **_Dude_**." Harley snapped back, upper lip curling into a snarl as she shrugged her good arm out of his hold and began chugging the drink faster, moving out of reach of his gangly arms as he tried to snatch it back, pressing herself against the other side of the car as she gulped away stubbornly. If he was taking her on a suicide mission, the least he could do was allow her to be drunk off her ass. 

"Oh, _wow,_ yeah, real mature." Stiles scoffed, finally placing his other hand back on the steering wheel after the person behind him started to honk their horn aggressively as the jeep veered off to the side of the road, glaring at the girl who smirked back at him, unprovoked and uncaring of his problems. How the hell was this his life?

"You're lucky I'm even coming to help, asshole."

"Hey! If I knew anyone, _literally_ anyone else that could help right now, I'd call them. But Scott said you were the only one to get the drop on the alpha." Stiles snapped back just as quickly, slapping his pale and strangely long hand against the steering wheel to get his point across as he spat out the words, ignoring the pain that came with the violence by dying inside. 

"Wait, what?" Harley said, her dark eyebrows furrowed as she finished the very last drop of her drink, laying it down on the space next to her uncaringly and turning to face Stiles, drilling a hole into the side of his head as he rolled his eyes the second she'd opened her mouth. He didn't know what it was about her, but Harley was annoying just as much as she was intimidating, and mixing those too reactions together just got his defences up. Which was sarcasm. 

"You stabbed him with some long sword or something."

Harley paused, pulling a face as she tried to remember what the hell he was talking about, before flashes of that night assaulted her mind once more. Holy shit. She stabbed the alpha with some sort of scythe? She glanced down at her still hand, clenching it slightly, as if expecting for it to appear once again out of thin air, but it didn't, and she instead looked back out the window with wide dark eyes. "Yeah I did. Forgot about that." 

"Yeah, wonder why." Stiles scoffed, eyeing the now empty flask lying next to her, oh _his_ seats with a grimace, he was going to have to go and get his car washed after all this, if he even survived that long. "How can you even drink that stuff?" 

"You build a tolerance for it. And considering it's the only think keeping me from overdosing in a ditch, it's working pretty well so far." She shrugged, crossing her Jean-covered leg over the other one nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just alluded to the fact she was barely surviving, and tilting her head to rest on the dark headrest behind her, bright green beanie crunching up over her forehead, almost pulling over her eyes as she did do. 

"Jesus christ, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"How much time you got?" Harley said smugly, barking playfully at the boy and laughing as he flinched away from her with a scowl, only to freeze as her phone vibrated from her back pocket once more. She sighed, resisting the urge to groan in frustration, already having an idea of who it was and quickly pulled it out and quirked a brow once more. Seriously? What fresh hell was this?

_Princess shortcake;_  
_We're_ _going_ _shopping tomorrow. If you insist on wearing those stupid hats I'm going to at least find you one that_ _looks nice_ _. Xoxo_  
P.s _If you've saved my name as something stupid,_ _I_ _will find your drug stash and burn it._

Harley rolled her eyes so hard she feared she'd actually lose them, dropping her phone into her bag and shaking it until it reached the bottom where it would no longer bother her as she glared out of the window once more, and this time she came to the startling realisation that it had gotten rather dark outside, fog rolling in and the hint of the moon making is ominous appearance. "So, probably too late to ask this, but do you _actually_ have a plan or...?" 

"Look, from what I know the full moon makes them stir crazy, like it brings out the feral side to them. So, we've got to chain him up, or else it not going to end well for anyone." Stiles explained seriously, gesturing his hand behind him, causing Harley to frown before looking into the back of the jeep where, sure enough, there was a bag full of chains and such. She wrinkled her nose at them, let's hope he'd only _recently_ bought them, or else things suddenly just got really uncomfortably sexual. 

"Yeah, think you might of forgot something there, genius." She replied, turning back around and moving to rest her foot against the dashboard, leaning her uninjured arm across it as she looked back outside, and stared directly at the moon coming up over the trees, bathing the streets in its white glow as the scenery passed on by. "And what's that?"

" _ **Wolves don't like being chained up**_."  
_________________________________________________

Harley was beginning to suspect that Stiles was a bit of a weirdo...perhaps even borderlining on a criminal as he parked outside of the Mccall residence, yanking her and the bag full of his kinky stash out and marching them up towards the door before practically throwing the bag into her unprepared arms to fumble with the keys.

"Did you pick pocket him or something?" She questioned with a raised brow, but he just shot her a glare over his shoulder, causing her to scowl back. It was almost like he forgot that if Scott did go all rabid on them, she might be their only hope, well, if she could somehow do what she did last time and conjure up some sort of scythe out of thin air. She really did miss the times where all she had to worry about was dead people haunting her.

The door finally unlocked, and, tired of the boys micro-agressions towards her, she pushed the bag _back_ into his arms, forcing the breath out of his lungs and strutted into the home, hearing him quickly follow behind her, closing the door after them with a huff. "Was that really necessary-"

"Scott?" A pretty older woman came around the corner suddenly, with medium-toned skin, and hair slicked back into a somewhat messy ponytail, her dark eyes hopeful and it took Harley a few moments to realise that this was Scott's mom and, she was just guessing by the get-up, one of the nurses who worked at the hospital.

"Stiles." The buzz-cut boy replied, grinning awkwardly as he moved to stand in front of Harley slightly, puffing his shoulders out as much as he could for his lanky frame, as if that was going to shield her from being seen from the older woman in front of them, who was looking more and more confused by the second as she stared at him. "Key?"

"Yeah I had one made, so-" Stiles shrugged, not seeing the problem with it or seeing Harley's reaction behind him as she looked at the back of his head with wide eyes. _Yeah, definitely borderlining on criminal, s_ he thought to herself making a note to never leave her keys where he might be able to find them.

"That doesn't surprise me. It _scares_ me, but it doesn't surprise me." The mother replied, looking towards the stairs before looking back towards them and, seemingly for the first time, taking note of Harley standing behind him, looking very out-of-place with her dark clothing with even darker makeup against the panes of her face, glaring at the floor. "And this is?"

"Harley. Harley Davidson." Stiles quickly replied, looking up towards the stairs desperately, wanting to get set up as quickly as possible but it seemed the universe was having more fun tormenting him. Melissa's eyes lit in in recognition as she tugged on the strap of her shoulder-bag, gesturing towards the girl as she did so. "Oh, yes, you were at the hospital the other day weren't you? Hows the arm?"

"Its getting better, thankyou." Harley replied awkwardly, looking towards Stiles for help but seeing his attention was elsewhere causing her to snarl and kick him in the skin with her foot, bringing his attention back over to the conversation at hand, unaware of Scott's mom watching the two closely, almost hopefully, raing her brows with a large smile. "So, are you Stiles's girlfr-"

"No! Nope definitely not, I'm uh, his partner. His science partner! Me, Scott and Stiles have been put together for a project so..." Harley hurries to reply, fighting off the urge to gag at the suggestion lest she hurt either of their feelings.

"Ah, alright. Oh, I'm sorry, my names Melissa by the way."

"Look this is all really fine and dandy but we have to get a start on this, so if you'll just-" Stiles herded Harley towards the stairs, albeit quite gently not to aggravate the girl who shouted a quick bye over her shoulder as she was pushed up, only for Melissa to call the attention back down towards her as she looked up imploringly at her son's best friend. "Stiles? He's okay right?"

Stiles's eyes closed in frustration, shoving the bag into the girls arms who scowled but thankfully, didn't protest, before he turned back round to face her, noticing Harley continuing to walk up the stairs but stopping on the walkway, waiting for him but also giving them some privacy, huh, who knew the girl could _actually_ be thoughtful. "Who, Scott? Yeah, totally..."

Harley didn't hear the rest of the conversation, instead she turned her head to look at the wall in front of her, drowning out the background noise as she focused on the pictures decorating it. Just what in the _fuck_ was she actually doing here? Actually, scratch that, just what in the fuck was she doing with her life in general? It was only eleven years ago that she was perfectly sane, not seeing dead people, not addicted to all sorts of drugs and not about to help chain a teenage boy up to whatever they could find.

And yet, here she was, trying to ignore a private conversation with a bag full of fucking _chains_ in a bag, clutching it in her tight grip and desperately needing a drink, maybe even something stronger. The sooner the drugs finally caught up to her system and killed her, the better, she thought morbidly, scratching her head underneath the itchy wool of the beanie resting on her head. Telepathicly urging Stiles along so they could hurry this up and she could go home and drown her trauma's away.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Stiles jogged up the remaining stairs, taking the bag _back_ out of her hands and into his as he lead her towards his friends bedroom. "Jesus christ, did you ask her to read you the fucking _bible_? What took you so long?"

"I had to throw off suspicion!" Stiles snapped, jerking his arms as if he was going to flap them up into the air, but instead tripping over his own two feet. The only reason the anxious boy didn't fall flat on his face was due to Harley's quick reflexes as she quickly lunged forward, grabbed him by the back of his dark grey jacket and pulled him upright. "Would you at least look where you're going you bald bastard."

"I'm not bald! It's a buzz cut." He snapped back indignantly, his mouth hanging open in offence as he resisted the urge to run his hands over the short dark hair atop his head. He didn't really look bald...did he?

"Shit cut?" Harley purposely misheard, grinning at the dark glare he shot at her over his shoulder, knowing fine well just how much she was annoying him but too freaked out to care. She did _not_ sign up for this, and yet, here she was, watching the boy struggle with opening the door with her face twisted up, begging for her share of the fucking braincell. "Please, try and take _more_ time. It's not like I have a life or anything."

"Would you just _shut_ \- Oh, _my_ God! Dude, you scared the hell out of me! Your mom said you weren't home yet." Stiles suddenly exclaimed, finally opening the door and turning on the lights, unconsciously holding his arm out to push the girl behind him, heart pounding so hard and loud inside his chest that Harley could swear she heard it as she popped her head over his shoulder to see what had scared him. "Yeah, that isn't _terrifying_ or anything. Jesus, I need a drink."

Scott was sitting in the far corner of the room, shrouded in darkness, staring up at them with a dark glint in his eyes that really rubbed her the wrong way. Stiles didn't seem to notice or care as he strolled in and plopped the bag onto the floor in front if the werewolf's feet, the chains rattling inside as Harley slowly slided in behind him, keeping her eyes trained on Scott as her gut stirred uncomfortably, warning her that _something_ wasn't quite right.

"I came in through the window." He replied blankly, voice sounding all sorts of _wrong_ and _soft_ , before his eyes flickered over to Harley, who'd moved closer to Stiles, hand poised at her side, as if prepared to yank the boy out of the room in a moments notice. "What's she doing here?"

" _She_ is standing right here. And I'm here to help, obviously." Harley snapped, finally moving out of the taller boys shadow to face him, dark eyes flickering from his hands to his eyes, waiting for any sign that something was about to happen. Scott scoffed low in his throat, tilting his head to the side dangerously as he looked up at her, noticing the way Stiles shifted so that his shoulder was pressed against hers, almost like he was trying to shield her away from his dark gaze.

"Yeah, you were real helpful today, ignoring me at every turn."

"Grow the fuck up you walking carpet-"

"Ok-ay! Let's not piss the werewolf off, huh?" Stiles interrupted, staring down at the girl with wide-eyes. Just because she seemed to have a death wish, didn't mean he did, he happened to want to live to a ripe old age, or, at the very least, lose his virginity before he kicked the bucket, either one would be fine. Scott then looked at him, and the whiskey-eyed boy felt his mouth suddenly go dry at the attention as he cleared his throat. "Okay. Uh, well, let's get this set up. I want you to see what I bought."

He squatted down, unzipping the bag as he rummaged though it, ignoring Harley's hand as it curled anxiously around his shoulder as she kept her eyes trained on the werewolf, watching his back just as he subconsciously watched hers.

"I'm fine." Scott broke through the silence blankly, voice still sounding off and bland as he kept still against the chair, in fact, he hadn't even moved once since they fucking walked in and ignoring the way the two occupants of the room looked at him weirdly. "I'm just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight."

"You sure about that? 'Cause you've got this kind of serial killer look going on in your eyes, and I'm hoping it's the full moon taking effect, 'cause it's _really_ starting to freak me out." Stiles said nervously, starting to feel very grateful that he had to sense to bring someone with him as Harley frantically nodded her head in agreement, leaning down to whisper, "Don't forget that weird psycho voice he's got going on."

"I'm fine. You should both go now."

Stiles stared at him for a moment, jaw tensed before letting out a quiet sight, shrugging his shoulders. "All right. I'll leave." Harley shot him a disbelieving glare, all this about how Scott could add on to her rising pile up of fucking ghosts and now he wanted to turn tail and run? Was he kidding her right now?

"Well, look, would you just at _least_ look in the bag and see what I brought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don't. Sound good?" Stiles said, jerking his shoulders. Scott slowly rose from his chair, face unchanging as stared down at Harley, who took a step closer to the whiskey-eyed boy, thigh pressing against his back as she glared over at Scott uncomfortably. The werewolf crouched down, and reached into the bag to pull out a thick chain, then glanced back up to Stiles darkly.

"You think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?"

"Actually, no..." Stiles suddenly lunged forward, pulling handcuffs from around his back that Harley wasn't able to see and quickly slapping it over Scott's tanned wrist and pinning it to the radiator in the same breath, the move so fast that she was hardly able to make it out as the human boy lurched up and stumbled back into her the second he'd done it. " _Holy shit!_ "

"What the **hell** are you doing!?"

"Protecting you from yourself and giving you some payback...For making out with Lydia." Wait, _what?_  
___________________________________________________

"You wanna tell me what the _fuck_ that was about, hot-shot?" Harley snapped the moment they were downstairs, leaning against the counter with her beanie discarded somewhere in the living room, her hand clenched in her dark curls as she yanked on them, still struggling to comprehend how _this_ had become her life. For fucks sake she wasn't even friends with these bastards and yet she was being dragged into their shit, what kind of freaky karma was this?

"Look you don't understand-"

"Oh no, I understand perfectly. You like Lydia, Scott broke the 'bro code' or whatever it was by kissing her, and you managed to involve me, an _innocent_ bystander, into your vengeful schemes." Harley rolled her eyes, turning so she faced the boy only to find him leaning over the sink, hands clenched into fists to stop himself from shaking as he took steady breaths to calm himself, and then turning around to glare at her.

"Okay first of all, _no_ one would ever describe you as innocent. Second of all, I didn't ask you to help me because of 'revenge', I just needed some help and you are the only one who knows about this stuff that isn't a werewolf and won't put me in danger of tearing me apart because of the full moon." He explained through gritted teeth, heart still pounding from the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She scoffed dangerously, before slowly giving him a once-over, noticing the way his whole body was tensed with rage, shoulders shaking and the tip of his nose turning red, his eyes whisky-coloured eyes slightly bloodshot and bruised looking. Harley hesitated for a moment, watching as he grabbed a bottle of water and began to down it with a grimace on her face. "...Are you alright? You look...weepy."

"Yeah, I'm _great._ Apart from the fact my best friend kissing the girl I've been in love with since 3rd freaking _grade,_ I'm doing amazing." He snapped childishly, throwing the bottle in the bin with a huff. Harley sighed, and then reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out the flask she kept there in case of emergencies as shook it, bringing his attention back over to her.

"You want something stronger?" She asked with a half-smile, trying to be kind but not really knowing how as the boy walked over, took the alcohol out of her hands and took two quick gulps before gagging loudly, handing it back and rushing back to the sink where he turned it on, and pressed his mouth into the flowing stream. "What the _hell_ is in that? Gasoline?"

"Ugh, whiskey, vodka, red wine and a sprinkle of lemon." She said hesitatingly, screwing an eye shut and furrowing her brows as she tried to remember what disgusting concoction she'd mixed together the morning before. Stiles continued to wash his mouth out, trying to forget the taste but containing to gag every once in a while. "So, feeling any better?"

"Nope, now I just hurt physically as well as emotionally. Great job, let's never do that again."

However, barely even five minutes later he was back on his feet, another bottle of water clenched between his shaking hands and a dog bowl in the other one, storming up the stairs with a glint in his eye, as Harley sighed, shaking her head and following after him. If he died and became another ghost haunting her, she'd kill herself, literally, there would be no other escape.

"I brought you some water." Stiles smiled smugly, making a show of pouring the clear liquid into the bowl, ignoring the girl behind him who was leaning against the wall in front of the door, away from the drama, but close enough that she could pull him back is Scott decided to lunge forwards. The werewolf watched the boy lay the bowl in front of him, gaze dark and angry and the moment Stiles turned his back, he threw it towards him. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed _Lydia_. That's, like, the _one girl_ that I ev-! And, you know, the past three hours, I've been thinking, it's probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow, he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete _dumbass_ he's been- a son of a _bitch_ , a freaking _unbelievable_ piece of _crap_ friend." Stiles ranted, chest heaving with teary eyes that he stubbornly wiped away, all the while Harley watched from the corner, chest heavy with empathy.

"She kissed me."

"What?"

"I didn't kiss her...she kissed me." Scott slowly looked up, a taunting and cruel glint in his eyes as he looked up at his friend like a predator would do to a prey. Stiles looked at him for a few moments, face unreasonable before scoffing and turning his back, legs suddenly feeling like jelly underneath him as he went out into the corridor and slowly slid down the wall, ignoring the girl in front of him who stepped forward. "Hey, don't listen to him."

"She would have done a lot more, too. You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me. She would have done anything I wanted. _Anything_!" He yelled, voice hoarse and cold, going straight for the jugular.

Harley didn't even pause for a moment as she came to his defence. "Wow, you really _are_ adorable. You really think she kissed you because she, what? Couldn't get enough of you? We all know why she kissed you, to get back at Jackson you smug piece of shit." She snapped, unable to take the sorrowful look in Stiles's eyes anymore as she glared over to the chained work, upper lip curling into a snarl as he openly laughed at her.

"You think I care about what you think? A junkie who's going to be lucky to make it to twenty? The sooner you kill yourself the better, your life is just one big miserable existence, to yourself and _everyone_ around you. I bet your parents can't _wait_ for you to kick the bucket, I know I can't." He spat, growling at the girl like a rabid animal, but he didn't get to say anything else, as Stiles finally reached up and slammed the door shut, cutting their connection off and the slumping back down onto the floor.

"Can I have that drink now?"  
_________________________________________________

The two spent the next hour there, leaning against the opposite walls with ther legs pressed against each other, ignoring Scott as he begged, shouted and threatned them through the door, heaving the occasional shaking off the handcuffs as he tried to pull himself away. Harley stared ahead of her blankly, head resting against the wall and resisting the urge to yawn.

"Hey, uh, look, thanks for that...back there. You didn't have to do that." Stiles eventually broke the silence, resting his long arms over his knees to play with his shaking fingers, remembering his breathing and grounding techniques for when his anxiety got the better of him and pushing all of his focus into them, keeping his mind away from his friend and the betrayal.

"Don't worry about it." She said with a shrug if her shoulders, blinking sluggishly and her body powered down, exhaustion making her eyes droop without her permission. Stiles finally looked up from his hands and noticed the way she was struggled, and huffed out a sigh. "Hey, why don't you go home? I think I've got it handled from here."

"Thought you needed me if this all went to shit?" She asked with a low chuckle, adjusting her beanie that she'd found thrown over the couch, though she couldn't remember taking it off in the first place. Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, you're not exactly going to be any help half-asleep, are you?"

"Good point. Here, pass me your phone." Harley sat upright, holding her hand out and curling her fingers while wriggling her brows as Stiles frowned at her, reaching into his pocket anyway to pull it out, going to hand it over but pausing before he dropped it into her hand, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

"So I can put my number in, idiot."

"Why?" He asked, though he did as she said, watching as she brought it to her chest quickly, eyes squinting at the brightness.

"Look, I've tried ignoring all of this supernatural stuff but I can't. I mean, I see dead people for fucks sake, so, I guess the best option is to stick with the people who are kinda going through the same thing. Call me if anything happens, alright?" Harley muttered, rubbing her eyes and quickly slamming her number in before standing up, handing it back over with her back creaking as she stretched, Stiles doing to the same as he followed her down the stairs. "Yeah, good idea."

They came to a stop at the front door, looking out into the blaring darkness in front of them, with the occasional groan from Scott upstairs breaking through the quiet. "You going to be alright getting home?" Stiles asked quietly, only for Harley to snort up at him, patting his shoulder as she strolled past and began to walk down the driveway, seemingly without a care in the world.

"Baby, darkness is where I _thrive._ See you tomorrow, Stilinski. Make sure you don't get bitten." 


End file.
